Muggle Magic
by Captain LeBubbles
Summary: In exchange for not giving them detention, Fred and George teach Filch a few Muggle magic tricks. FilchPince. Takes place sometime before HP1.
1. Of Spatulas, Sporks, and Smoke Bombs

Muggle Magic Story By: The Bubbles 

_**Disclaimer**__- I don't own HP, if I did, you can bet that Fred and Dobby would have lived. Harry might not have… er, anyway._

_**A/N**__- Both the Twins and Filch are among my favorite characters. I first thought of this story while reading HP6, and I thought, hey, that's a fun pairing to read! So I ran over to that section of FFN and only found 1 story. I didn't think that was good, so I wrote my own. I'm going to make this two, maybe three chapters long._

_**Summary**__- In exchange for not giving them detention, Fred and George teach Filch a few Muggle magic tricks. Takes place sometime before HP1._

**avatarjk137**- Thanks for pointing that out to me. The story was in bold because the font I type in is hard to see otherwise. I was going to change it before I posted; I just kinda forgot to. Anyway, that's why I reposted this chapter.

Chapter 1: Of Spatulas, Sporks, and Smoke Bombs

The Weasley twins were standing in a corridor that was emitting multicolored smoke. Actually, what they were doing was more along the lines of 'lurking.' It might seem insane to linger, as doing so could incriminate certain known pranksters, but the twins wanted to see the result of their handiwork… and their shoes had melted to the floor.

"Well, well, well… caught with your hand in the cookie jar, are you?"

Both twins turned, as best as they could, toward the source of the sound. They didn't need to, not really, because they knew the voice quite well already, but nonetheless they looked.

Argus Filch stood behind them, arms crossed and looking rather grumpy. Ms. Norris was slinking behind him, looking both nasty and cross and evil, as she is wont to do.

"Come with me," Filch said, and he grabbed their ears, fully intent on dragging them to his office to hang them by their ankles from the ceiling or menace them with dull sporks or something equally horrible, but found to his surprise that they would not budge.

"I said, COME WITH ME. Now!" Still they would not budge.

"As much as we'd love to come with you to our doom, I'm afraid we can't," said Fred. Maybe. It could have been George.

"You see, Fred and I are in a bit of a pickle," added the other, who was by default George.

"We seem to have melted our shoes to the floor," Fred continued.

"That's why we didn't run," finished George.

Filch sighed and rolled his eyes so much that his head got in on the action and turned to the invisible cameras that he was convinced followed him everywhere. Then he turned to Ms. Norris.

"My dear, would you please go get the spatulas so we can remove these troublemakers from the floor."

Ms. Norris mewed once and darted off around the corner.

"While we're waiting," Filch said in a voice that suggested he was used to this kind of thing, which he probably was, "perhaps you can tell me what happened here. Where did all this smoke come from?"

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you," answered the one who was probably George, but could have been Fred. Filch had forgotten already.

"It's really a funny story now I think about it."

"We were just standing here minding our own business,"

"Innocently as you please,"

At this Filch snorted. He had never known the twins to be innocent.

"More innocent than usual, anyway,"

"When this boy runs up and dumps a load of junk in our arms."

"He told us it was ours as long as we didn't tell who we'd gotten it from,"

"And then he runs off."

"Well now, Freddy and I look over this pile of junk and we realize that it's all Muggle magic tricks,"

"And in it are some smoke bombs for making a grand entrance."

"So we decided to see how they might be useful to use,"

"And while we were heading off to our dorm, Georgie here drops all of the smoke bombs,"

"And they just exploded all over,"

"And melted our shoes to the floor,"

"Which brings us up to where you came in."

Filch was debating the worth of using a Time-Turner to go back and make sure the twins were never born and thus never plagued him when part of their words hit him like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Laughed-At in a bad mood.

"Did you say Muggle magic?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Muggles can't use magic, can they? All the ones who can get sent off to school."

"They can use illusions and sleight of hand, though."

"That's what all the junk was."

"Do you know how to use these… items?" Filch was trying desperately not to look desperate, but it was becoming difficult. These Muggle magic tricks might be just the break he was looking for!

A muffled mewing at his feet drew his attention to Ms. Norris, who was standing there with a silver spatula clamped in her mouth. He took it from her and began the long, arduous task of prying the melted shoes from the floor. Several minutes and an hour later, both Weasleys stood over a breathless Filch, who had half-collapsed, half-sat on the floor upon finishing.

Surprisingly, they both waited patiently for the bitter caretaker to regain his breath before helping him up. Hey, where's the harm in getting on the good side of someone about to punish you? (Not that it worked, of course, as they had so long ago gotten so far onto his bad side that there was no going back.)

Finally, Filch had gotten them to his office and sat them down, where they awaited their doom calmly. He glared at them for some time before finally dropping the façade.

"I'm going to make a deal with you," he said. They immediately looked up in surprise. Filch _never_ made deals. They waited. "This is the deal: you teach me how to use these Muggle magic tricks of yours, and I will skip punishing you."

The twins looked at each other in awe. An uncomfortable silence fell over the three present. It was Fred (or maybe George) who broke this silence.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you want us to teach you these tricks?"

Filch grew very red and mumbled something that sounded like "Onness Mim Ince." As can be expected, neither twin understood this language and rather wondered if perhaps Filch had taken leave of his senses.

"What was that, Mr. Filch? You're mumbling."

"I _said_, 'I want to impress Madame Pince.' Now are you going to help me or not?"

They exchanged identical grins of… well they weren't _completely_ evil. There was some joy and happiness and maybe some fluffy stuff at the bottom. As if on cue, they jumped up and held out their hands.

"Mr. Filch, you've got a deal!"

Filch took their hands in turn and shook them, immediately wondering if perhaps he had made a grave mistake…


	2. Of Daffodils, Plastic Wands, and Puddles

Muggle Magic Story By: The Bubbles 

_**Disclaimer**__- I don't own HP, if I did, you can bet that Fred and Dobby would have lived. Harry might not have… er, anyway._

_**A/N**__- This chapter goes back to when Filch first became attracted to Madame Pince as well as why he hasn't yet 'wooed' her. _

_**Summary**__- In exchange for not giving them detention, Fred and George teach Filch a few Muggle magic tricks. Takes place sometime before HP1._

_**A/N-**__ The end of this is a bit off, because even though I could see the scene in my head, I couldn't figure out exactly how to word it. I may revamp it later and then repost it, I don't know. I'm moving on to another story that I like better than this one._

Chapter 2- Of Daffodils, Plastic Wands, and Puddles of Goo 

"This is our library," Professor Dumbledore said. "Madame Pince, our librarian, does most of the care taking in here- I'm told that she doesn't trust anyone else with her books- but she may on occasion solicit your help."

The headmaster rattled on, unaware or perhaps uncaring that his new caretaker was no longer listening to his words.

Argus Filch hadn't stopped listening out of disrespect, but more because he'd been struck by an image of beauty. She was radiant, tall and slim with a bit of a birdlike face. She was repairing a battered copy of '_Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration_,' tending to the worn pages and binding almost lovingly, as if this was her only purpose in life and if she made one mistake her life would end.

He was startled to find that his throat was suddenly quite dry. She glanced up and he looked away quickly, hoping that she didn't notice him staring at her. Not for the first time in his life, he wished that he hadn't been born a squib. He wanted to stride over and do something to impress her, but he could think of nothing that was good enough that didn't involve magic.

His cat, Ms. Norris, slunk around his feet and shot him a look as if she knew what he was thinking. She mewed in a cross sort of way, perhaps to remind him that she'd never minded that he was a squib and that she'd always been good enough for him _before_. He picked her up and stroked her absently as he resumed watching Madame Pince as she added a few extra security measures to the book; bewitching it to return on it's due-date, perhaps, or maybe to beat its reader over the head should it be written on.

Dumbledore finally noticed the object of Filch's attention. He smiled merrily at the thought.

"I believe she likes Daffodils," he said airily, and resumed his tour of the school grounds.

Filch shook out of his stupor and followed. Had the headmaster just said that? He couldn't be sure. Still, Dumbledore was supposed to be the greatest wizard of the century, so maybe he'd noticed. Not like it was a jealously guarded secret. And, the bit about her favorite flowers had given him an idea.

That Valentine's Day, and every Valentine's Day after that, Madame Pince entered her office to find a large bouquet of daffodils sitting on her desk. She never knew who sent them, because there was never even a note, but they made her happy to know that at least _someone_ thought of her.

Several years after that, the flowers began to appear on Christmas and her birthday as well. She wanted to find out whom they were from after that. She'd even asked Professor Sprout if she knew, as the flowers would have come from one of the greenhouses, but Pomona had just said that she had no idea.

And back to the present, where the Weasley twins have been teaching Filch the use of Muggle Magic tricks!

"You're sure this will work?" Filch asked the two troublemakers. "Do you think this will make her love me?"

"Well…"

"We don't know about love…"

"Women are hard to comprehend, you know."

"But it should impress her,"

"Unless of course she's heartless."

"Which she _obviously_ isn't."

They headed to the door. "We should be leaving now."

They headed out. "Let us know how it works out!"

"Wait!" They stopped and turned. "I do feel it necessary to warn you- no one is to know of this."

"Right, gotcha," they said, and immediately beat a retreat.

Once they were safely in their common room, George fixed his brother with an icy stare.

"And just_ why _are we helping Filch get lucky?"

Fred sighed. "Georgie, Georgie, Georgie." He shook his head. "Don't you realize that if Filch has a girl he'll have less time to punish the students? He might even be less bitter!"

Madame Pince had grown accustomed to her bouquet of daffodils on her birthday, so she entered her office expecting to see them as always. She was quite surprised to find that instead of her usual flowers, Argus Filch was leaning on her desk, his hand wrapped around something in his pocket. She blinked a few times before regaining her composure.

"Argus. What a surprise. What are you doing here?"

He straightened up, suddenly nervous.

"I, er, uh, I- I wanted to give you these." He took a black wand out of his pocket. He bowed and flourished it, and it changed into a bouquet of daffodils- her birthday bouquet.

Her breath caught in her throat. Suddenly everything made sense- how he'd gotten the daffodils without Sprout's knowledge and how he'd gotten them in her office without _her_ knowledge: he was the caretaker, he had keys to everywhere! She was so delighted to have all her answers that she couldn't help but laugh a little.

Filch felt horrible. He'd been aware that she might not like him, but he'd always thought that she had enough tact not to laugh.

Madame Pince noticed Filch's face all and stopped laughing.

"Oh, please don't feel bad, Argus," she reassured him. "I'm not laughing at you. It's just that I've waited so long to find out who's been sending me these flowers every year, and now I find that the answer was right under my nose the whole time." She smiled at him, and he melted into a puddle of goo on the floor.

Once she had scooped him up and put him back together, he slipped his arms around her waist.

"I was hoping that when I finally managed to tell you you'd be happy."

"You should have said something years ago," she whispered, and leaned in to kiss him.

I think we'll leave them there. This is, after all, pretty private.

Oh, and the twins were right. After Filch got the girl, so to speak, he was less bitter and mean. Which just goes to show how bitter he was beforehand, because we all know how bitter he is in the books.

Fin.


End file.
